Prince of the Playhouse: A MM, Coming Out, Secret Identity, Theater Romance (Love in Laguna Book 3)

by Tara Lain

  Ru looked up at Merle peeking in the door of the room as caterers pushed past him with platters and trays of glasses. “Hey.” He waved and smiled.

  Shaz’s eyes widened. “Oh, dear me. Apparently you have other commitments as well.”

  Ru sighed. “Merle, come meet my best friend.”

  Merle walked up beside Ru and slipped a hand around his waist. He extended the other toward Shaz. “I’m so glad to meet you finally. I’m Merle—”

  Shaz took that hand in both of his. “Please, darling. I know who you are. I watch TV and drool with the best of them.”

  “I thank you for every drop of saliva.” He grinned. “And also for being such a great stylist that I aspire to engage one day, and for your friendship to Ru. He talks about you a lot.”

  “Ah, darling, we’re mutual admirers.”

  “I’m looking forward to meeting your husband.”

  “He’ll be here soon. He has to extricate himself from an adoring client.”

  Ru shifted a little. Merle got the hint and dropped his hand. Ru gestured toward the door. “What’s going on out there? I heard a bunch of noise.”

  “The cast members are arriving.”

  “Gray?” Half hope and half fear.

  “No, not when I came in here. Last I saw him, he was huddled backstage with his manager and some producer types.”

  “He did brilliantly. You all did.”

  “Yeah. He surprised the hell out of me. Who’d ever guess something that pretty could act too? Seems like an unfair balance in the universe, don’tcha think?” He laughed.

  Shaz smiled. “My dear, you’re equally beautiful, and while I only saw the first four acts, you did Horatio proud.”

  Merle looked at Ru. “Hey, I get why you like him so much.”

  “Yes. My prince.” Ru grabbed Merle’s arm. “Come on. Make me go talk to people before I run screaming down the street and hide in my bathroom.”

  Shaz said, “Let’s give people a little more time to settle in and then start the fashion show. I don’t want drunks spilling champagne on the clothes.”

  Merle raised an eyebrow. “May be too late for that.”

  “God, I’ll tell the caterers to drag their feet a little.”

  He rushed off, and Merle gave Ru a sweet smile. “Ready to go kill ’em?”

  “That or myself, darling.”

  Merle stepped back. “Hey, you okay?”

  “Absolutely. Come on.”

  They threw open the door into the studio and then to the first of the two big rooms where the party was happening. Wow. The crowd had been sparse when he arrived but not now. Beautifully dressed bodies jammed the space, and the aroma of so much perfume made breathing a challenge.

  Merle snagged a couple of glasses of champagne from a passing waiter as people reached out to shake Ru’s hand and give him hugs and kisses.

  Ru whispered, “Let’s go into the lobby. More air there.”

  They stepped through the open door between the two rooms and—attack of the cosmic joker! Like Ru’s opposite bookend, Gray walked into the open front door of Shazam. They even each had their own tall, beautiful blonde on their arm. People between them turned in one direction or the other, as if a giant magnet were pulling iron filings into a mysterious pattern.

  People applauded, and members of the press moved toward both Gray and Ru. Gray stared and started to smile. Then his eyes shifted to Merle, and a crease the size of the Mariana Trench appeared between his eyebrows. One reporter followed Gray’s line of sight—direct to Ru. Damn. Ru waved and, hauling Merle with him, made a direct line to Gray.

  Ru stopped right in front of him, beamed, stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, then stepped back. “You were astonishing. I can’t imagine a finer Hamlet anywhere.”

  Merle stuck out a hand. “I second that. You were great. And I don’t mean ‘great for an action star.’ I mean plain great.”

  Gray kind of shook himself and seemed to wake up to what was going on. He took Merle’s hand. “Thanks, man, that means a lot coming from such a good Horatio.”

  Cameras flashed.

  Gray’s eyes rested a moment too long on Ru before he gave the crowd what it waited for—teeth to the max. “Ursula, I’d like you to meet my business partner and friend, Ru Maitland, and Merle Justice, who you saw as Horatio. This is Ursula Romanovsky.”

  Merle flashed a smile. “I’m a big fan, Ms. Romanovsky.”

  Thank God he spoke. Ru couldn’t manage much more than a smile and a head nod.

  The expression she wore on the high fashion runways seemed to be innate—a bored and slightly inscrutable mask. “Oh, that is good. You have seen me on magazines?”

  Merle nodded. “Yes, Vogue, Glamour, W.”

  Her brows moved a tiny fraction toward center. “This is not good reading material for man.”

  Merle’s smile moved from appreciative to ironic. “Well, you see, I’m a gay man, so I have more varied tastes than many men.”

  She actually frowned until she seemed to realize she could create wrinkles. “Is unnatural.”

  “Only to Vladimir Putin, dear.”

  Gray leaped into the breach. “When do we get to see your designs, Ru?”

  Ru’s glance touched Gray’s face, then skittered away. “Soon. Actually, I better go coordinate that.”

  A reporter stepped in. “Not before we get some shots of you and Gray together.”

  Sigh. He stepped beside Gray, tried to keep his cock from going bonkers when he felt the warm arm around him, smiled, and waited for all the cameras to quit snapping.

  Shaz hurried up. “I have to steal Ru from all of you. Get ready for a preview of his collection.” He grabbed Ru by the arm and hustled him back into the Ru Maitland Design offices, where the models were getting their last-minute touches. He looked back over his shoulder. “What’s she doing here?”

  “Ursula?” He lowered his voice. “She’s his smokescreen.”

  “More like airhead. Nasty homophobic bitch. I think her father must be Russian mafia, or she’d never have made it in this business with her stupid attitudes.”

  “She’s gorgeous.”

  “Not inside.” He stalked toward the door, arms crossed. “I can’t believe that the nicest, most beautiful man in the world is pretending to be Gray Anson’s pal while that she-wolf acts like his girlfriend.”

  “It’s okay, darling.”

  “It’s not okay.”

  “I mean, I’ve pretty much decided to give up the enterprise.”

  He frowned. “Are we talking about large interplanetary spaceships or surrendering your dreams?”

  Ru stared at the floor through the haze of tears. “Not really a dream. Just a fantasy. Isn’t that what movies are for?”

  Shaz bounded to his side and scooped him up in an embrace. “Oh, darling. I can’t bear to see you so unhappy.”

  “Why is our guy unhappy?” The deep, sweet voice came from just outside the door.

  Shaz’s face lit up like someone had turned on the lights in his eyes. “Hello, my knight.”

  At six and a half feet of gentle giant, Billy Ballew dominated any room he walked into. Shaz hurled himself at his husband and hissed, “That witch, Ursula, showed up as Gray Anson’s date tonight.”

  “Now, now. Homophobes need love too.” He smiled. “I’m really sorry, Ru. But he can’t care about her. She’s too mean.”

  Ru shook his head. “No. I don’t think he cares at all, but she’s just one of a string like her stretching into the future. Plus I almost died when I watched him get blown up yesterday. I honestly thought I could do anything to be with Gray. Now I don’t know if I’ve got the balls.”

  Hauling Shaz with him, Billy walked over and wrapped a powerful arm around Ru. “You can’t give up yet.”

  Shaz looked up at him with a crease between his eyebrows. “You don’t think Ru should get out before he really gets hurt?”

  “Well, getting hurt bad’s a huge risk. But I know that miracles can h
appen. Hell, look at us. Sometimes you have to wait for the miracle juice to take effect.”

  Ru gave Billy a nuzzle. “Thank you, dear. But I’m not expecting miracles.”

  James stuck his head in the door. “Sorry to break up this beautiful threesome, but the models are dressed and gorgeous. Shall we get them out there before the press is too drunk to take piccys? Hmmmm?”

  Ru mustered up a grin. He liked James, even if the guy was slipping into Ru’s spot as Shaz’s right hand since Ru had his own business to run. “Be right there.” He group-hugged Billy and Shaz, which required a big spread of arms. “Thank you, darlings. You’re the best friends a girl ever had.”

  He sucked in breath, plastered on a smile, and walked into the hall. Molly and Clarisse stood fully dressed in garments from Ru’s collection. Two other models, Liz and Rhonda, whom Shaz loved, had also been called in for the occasion. Ru stopped and stared. “Wow, ladies. I’m overwhelmed.”

  Molly wore the gown this time, a mauve dress in silk chiffon that swept the floor with a hemline of ruffled silk charmeuse. Clarisse rocked a mannish leather pantsuit drawn from Ru’s design for Hamlet that contrasted with her delicate femininity but merged with the gown in its lacy blouse. Liz wore the outfit that fully mirrored the gangbanger look Gray had worn onstage, but made in embroidered denim, while Rhonda did the hippyish Ophelia style.

  Ru clapped his hands. “You’re all smashing. I’ve never been so nervous in my life, so stomp it out fiercely for me.”

  Molly gave him a hug, which inspired a group smoosh, and then they were walking toward the party. Shaz’s assistants had set up a runway through the middle of the rooms, with special lighting.

  Ru gulped air and stepped out onto the head of the runway. “Hi, everyone. I think you all know, but just in case, I’m Ru Maitland. What you’re about to see is a small preview of my new collection that will be fully unveiled at New York Fashion Week. As you know, I designed the costumes for the production of Hamlet which many of you just saw.” The room burst into applause, and he felt himself blushing. He glanced at Gray. The Russian witch hung on his arm like a charm bracelet, bored expression intact. As he watched, Gray shrugged enough to dislodge her hold and applauded like mad. Well, okay.

  “Thank you.” Ru held up a hand. “I’m so happy you liked them. Those designs have informed my collection, as I’m sure you’ll see. But don’t think for a moment that this is all. We’re barely peeking under the kimono of fabulousness here. Come see me in New York in September. Now here’s your nibble.” He flashed a smile for the cameras and walked back down the hall, where Clarisse stood ready to start the short fashion show.

  He opened the door, she stepped out, and the place began to rattle with the clapping, whistling, and stomping coming from the room.

  Chapter Twenty

  “His clothes are very beautiful.”

  It sounded like she said, “Hiss close.” Every time Gray saw her, that accent seemed to get thicker. She probably came from Hoboken. He continued to stare out the limo windows. “Yes.” Where was Ru now? With Merle, right? Jesus, his stomach tightened. Who the hell do I think I am, feeling jealous?

  Benson leaned in from the backward-facing seat. “So you really did great, Gray. How shall we celebrate? I made reservations at Fig and Olive and Cecconi’s.”

  Gray turned toward him. “Why would I want to go there? No one saw the play or the fashion show. Why is that fun?”

  “Hey, we’ve got Ursula to show off to Hollywood. Who cares about the play?”

  “I do.”

  Ursula didn’t appear to have heard a word. “Do you think he would want Ursula to wear his clothes?” She frequently spoke of herself as if she wasn’t there.

  Gray looked at her. “Who?”

  “Rupert Maitland, of course.”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  She frowned. “But he used Molly. I am more marvelous than Molly.”

  “I doubt if Molly called him unnatural.”

  She shrugged. “But is well-known.”

  He sighed. “Only to you.” He turned back to the window. His heart beat in his ears. God, those clothes were fabulous. Ru was fabulous. What the hell am I doing here?

  Benson the cheerleader slapped Gray on the knee. “How about we go to downtown Laguna and get some of that good food at Rick’s. I could go for those french-fried green beans.”

  Ursula folded her arms. “No more Laguna Beach. Town full of homosexual lovers.”

  Gray slammed a hand on the leather upholstery. “Enough of this shit.” He looked at Benson. “You like her? You date her.” He leaned forward and pounded on the divider between the back and front seats. It slid down.

  Chris said, “Yeah, boss?”

  “Take Benson and Ursula wherever the hell they want to go.” He looked out the window at downtown Laguna. “And let me out here.”

  Chris said, “You shouldn’t be alone, Gray.”

  Benson took his arm. “You can’t do that.”

  Gray shook off Benson’s hand. “Watch me.” He turned to Chris. “I’m fine. Or I will be as soon as you let me out of this fucking car.”

  “Sure, boss.” Chris stopped, Gray jumped out, slammed the door, and jogged away from the car. Okay, that was a big exit. Where to? He smiled and started trotting toward the Ocean Bar. For two blocks he breathed the air like salty freedom and ignored the people who glanced up and stumbled over their feet when they recognized him.

  One woman waved. “Hi, Gray!”

  He waved back and kept trotting. At the bar, he pulled open the door on a wave of hope. The big weekend crowd surged back all the way to the door—heat, noise, the smell of alcohol. Before too many people recognized him, he shouldered his way farther into the crush and surveyed the larger tables and booths in the back. Sure enough, Artie’s hand appeared, waving wildly. Gray slipped between drinkers and got to the table. A big chunk of the cast and crew were there, but no Ru. Also no damned, fucking Merle.

  Artie stood and gave him a hug and pat on the back. “Hey, man, I’ve barely seen you. Great opening night. I had producers talking to me about films I could make with you.” He laughed. “That’s a first.”

  Gray stared at Artie. What an idea. “Hell, I’ll do any film you’re interested in, man. I love working with you.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Not even slightly. Let’s talk about it before my week is up.”

  “Shit yeah.” Artie patted his back.

  “Where’s Ru?”

  “Not sure. We invited Merle to join us while Ru was still doing his party and fashion show, but he said he wanted to wait for Ru. Not sure if they’ll show up.” He looked around at the nearby tables. “Let’s find a chair so you can sit down.”

  Instant decision. “Uh, actually I can’t.” He looked at the group at the table and smiled. “I just took a chance you’d be here so I could buy champagne for everyone and say how much I’m enjoying working with you. You’re the best. Sorry I can’t join you, but they’ve got some shit I have to do.” There, was that vague enough?

  The cast and crew all gave him handshakes, kisses, and pats. He did another guy hug with Artie, told the waitress to give the table anything they wanted, and left them his credit card good to two thousand dollars. With that, he escaped out the door and took off at a run up the hill. He liked Merle Justice a lot. In fact, he’d like to have him as a friend. But he’d be damned if Merle was taking his place with Ru.

  Doing his own stunts meant he reached the top of the slope without even breathing hard. He ran full speed down the streets with pictures of Merle getting his ass fucked blazing in his mind, and reached Ru’s block panting from frustration more than exercise. Okay, slow down and breathe. One step, two steps, three steps—fuck that! He took off like a rabbit and bounded onto Ru’s porch, his fist landing on the door before he could stop himself.

  Ru glanced at Merle, set down his glass of champagne, and walked to the door. He peeked through the peephole. Son o
f a—the pounding came again.

  Okay, puppy. He threw open the door, stepped back, and swept a bow. “Prince Hamlet, I presume.”

  Gray stepped straight into the entry and positioned himself so he could look into the living room, which he did conspicuously. When he saw Merle, he frowned. “Hello, Justice.”

  Merle kind of snorted, but replied, “Hello, Anson.”

  Ru closed the door, walked into the living room, and sat himself beside Merle, in front of his champagne. “I believe you knew I had a date.” He looked around disingenuously. “By the way, where’s your date?”

  Gray crossed his arms. “She wasn’t a date, and you damned well know it.” He breathed a long, disgusted stream of air.

  “Do I? Do I know what in the hell you’re doing with Ms. Homophobic Honey any more than I know what you’re doing with half the fucking stuntmen in Hollywood?”

  Merle leaned back on the sofa cushion and grinned. “My oh my, I never expected I’d get to observe this kind of lovers’ quarrel.”

  Gray scowled. “Fuck off, Merle.”

  Merle laughed. “I appear to be the one sitting on the couch drinking champagne.”

  “That can be changed.” Gray took a menacing step forward.

  “Oh come on, man.” Merle looked half-scared and half-disgusted.

  Ru put his hands on his hips and slid to the edge of the couch. “Hell no. You don’t come in here and tell my guests what they can and cannot do.”

  Gray made a scary face, crossed to the chairs opposite the couch, and flopped into one. “Look, Merle, I like you. A lot, actually, otherwise I’d never be sitting here giving you this kind of ammunition over me.”

  Merle nodded, very man-to-man. “I kind of wondered about that. So the message I’m getting is that you’re gay and in love with Ru, right?”

  “Right. And my situation is crappy for romance. So, bottom line, I don’t need you fucking up my chances every chance you get.”

  Ru sat with his mouth hanging open. What the bloody hell did Gray just say? Did he say “right” to a question asking if he was in love with me? “Uh, hang on. Hang on! What exactly is going on here?”